The New Recruit
by Dragonfly-Moonlight
Summary: G1. Optimus Prime notices he's short on troops. He sends Prowl, Jazz, and Ironhide to recruit more. Story 1 in the Beatniks series


Optimus Prime took one more glance at the datapds then let out a frustrated growl. He didn't like what the reports were telling him, not in the least. Despite their numerous victories over the Decepticons, the numbers of the Autobot ranks were low and becoming lower after each battle. He needed to do something and get it done quickly. Otherwise, there'd be no more Autobots left to fight.

'Scratch that,' he thought. 'There'll be Ironhide left to fight. He's too stubborn to die.'

The thought brought a smile to his faceplate before it quickly faded. As amusing as it had been, it still didn't detract anything from the gravity of his current troop problem. He needed more recruits and, to get those recruits, he'd have to send several of his Autobots to the neutralist camps on Cybertron and the colonies of other planets. They weren't going to be accepted, not after what had happened under the previous Autobot leader.

'It can't be helped, though,' he sighed. 'We need to win this war . . . or it isn't going to be safe for anyone anywhere in the universe. And I know just who to send.'

Optimus Prime rose to his feet. He had a few 'Bots to talk to . . .

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"I don't like this."

Jazz sighed for the umpteenth time since Prowl, Ironhide, and he had left Earth's orbit several hours before. That had been the dozenth time the red Mech had declared his displeasure at being "volunteered" for recruiting duty. He couldn't say he blamed Ironhide for not liking the assignment but he was getting rather tired of the repetition of Ironhide's words. He just couldn't take it anymore.

"We know, Ironhide," Jazz stated, doing his best to keep his cool. "You don't like this. You'd rather stay on Earth and kick some Decepticon can. We all would. However, Prime chose us to carry out this mission."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ironhide grumped, slouching a little in his seat. "He sent us because we're the best at recruiting others to join us. He saw all of our records from when Sentinel Prime was alive . . . How did those records survive anyway? I thought we didn't keep records that long."

"They didn't and we don't," Prowl replied. "At least, not who was assigned to recruiting duty."

"So how did Prime find out?" Jazz inquired, frowning a little. If records like that weren't kept for very long . . .

"What do you want to bet he checked old personnel files?"

Both Prowl and Jazz turned to look at Ironhide. His blue optics were glittering brightly, almost impishly. Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. All new recruits were supposed to say who it was that had done the recruiting and to say something about the 'Bot that recruited him or her. Jazz felt his jaw dropping at the revelation. He'd have expected that kind of information to come from Prowl. Not Ironhide.

Prowl was the first to recover.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Ironhide?"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged. "I try."

Ironhide started to say more when the shuttle rocked to one side. For a moment, no one moved. They just sat there, listening. When the shuttle rocked again, everything became a flurry of activity. Ironhide took over at the weapons console, which luckily happened to be right next to the navigation console. Prowl began to run a diagnostics on the ship's scanners, to see if there'd been a malfunction somewhere. Jazz returned his attention back to piloting the ship. Nothing was showing up on the view screen.

"Okay," Jazz murmured to himself. "This is interesting."

"Everything is functioning as it should," Prowl announced. "Shields are still fully operational."

"What do you mean everything's functioning as it should?" Jazz shouted. "We're under attack!"

"No, we're not," Ironhide said. "The attacks have stopped."

Jazz paused, noting that Ironhide was right. Their ship had been hit but whoever had fired at them – and he was sure that they'd been fired at – had stopped.

Again, silence ensued in the shuttle. Cautiously, Jazz turned back around to face both Prowl and Ironhide. As he did so, he saw Ironhide smack himself in the forehead before starting to laugh.

"Ironhide?"

"Of all the confounded . . . Jazz, open up a channel."

"What?! Why?"

"You'll see," the older Mech replied enigmatically. Jazz hesitantly complied then watched as Ironhide got up and strode over to the console itself. What happened next floored the communications officer.

"You're getting rusty, old man."

Laughter came over the comm. channel.

"_Took you long enough to figure out who was firing at ya! Maybe I'm not the one getting rusty!"_

The moment that voice came over the channel, Jazz knew who had fired at them. He felt like smacking himself on the forehead as well.

"I should have known," he moaned. He and Prowl then locked optics.

"Stealth," they said in unison.

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Prowl shook his head at the somewhat . . . jovial reunion between Ironhide and Stealth. The two had not seen each other for quite a long time, not since Sentinel Prime had passed on.

Of course, he was part of that reunion as well, having known the older Mech for many millennia. He just hadn't expected to find him alive after he'd left Cybertron.

"This day is just full of surprises, isn't it?" Jazz murmured, smiling broadly.

"That it is," Prowl agreed. "I just hope he doesn't get upset with us when he finds out why we're here."

"Yeah . . ."

The reunion between the two Mechs continued for a few moments longer then it spread to Prowl and Jazz. Before he knew it, they were sitting in Stealth's private abode, laughing and discussing old times. Finally, Stealth asked the question that Prowl was certain would end the warm welcome that they'd received.

"So . . . I know that you didn't come all this way just to see me . . . what brings you all the way out to the Vega Quadrant?"

For a moment, none of them spoke. They couldn't even look at their longtime friend. Then Ironhide broke the silence.

"We're recruiting."

"Recruiting?" Stealth echoed.

"Yeah," the red Mech nodded. "Recruiting."

"Oh. I see . . . Things getting that bad?"

"Troop numbers are down . . . we've been holding our own but Prime doesn't think we'll be able to for much longer," Ironhide explained. "We really could use the help."

For several moments, Stealth said nothing. He just sat there, mulling over everything Ironhide had said. Then he glanced at them, a slight smile tugging on his lips.

"Is Ratchet still with you?"

"Is he?" Ironhide snorted. "Yes. And just as ornery as ever!"

"And the new Prime . . . he's a good leader?"

"Yes."

"I take it the fighting is no longer on Cybertron anymore?"

"No," Ironhide shook his head. "It's spread to at least one other planet . . . maybe even to some of the furthest outposts. I've only seen the reports for Earth and Cybertron."

"Hmmm . . . well . . . if that's the case . . . you may recruit here. But be warned . . . many of the neutralists here are rather eccentric. They may join up, they may not. If they do, don't expect them to last. They've grown accustomed to living peacefully."

"I think that's why Prime sent us and no one else," Prowl finally stated. "Because we won't sugar-coat it or coerce anyone into joining. He knows us rather well."

"True," Stealth conceded. "The three of you were always the best when it came to recruiting . . . so when do you want to begin?"

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"Next."

Ironhide refrained from rubbing at his optics as he waited for the next Neutral to enter the room. It had been a long time since he'd actually had to recruit someone, and he'd almost forgotten why he had stopped in the first place. Almost. Now that he was at it once more, he remembered clearly, and painfully.

Everyone always wanted something. Usually, he couldn't promise what it was that they wanted. It was often more than what the Autobots, as a whole, had to give. Then, when it came down to the actual nitty gritty . . . Either they liked what he had to say or they hated it. Recruiting tried his patience to its very thinnest yet he always managed to keep his temper reined in, something that had always surprised those who didn't really know him that well. Hell, it even surprised him at times.

'At least this is the last one for today,' he thought, squirming around in his seat a little. He ached to get up and do _something_. He was a Mech of action, after all.

Recruiting actually had not gone as bad as it could have. If he bothered to check his numbers, he would have seen he had more than what he'd been required to recruit. However, Ironhide wasn't concerned with what he had achieved. He was more concerned with getting the last interview for the day over and done with so he could head out and spend some time with his older brother.

'Can't think about that right now . . . got a job to do,' Ironhide told himself as the last Neutralist, a rather tall Femme (nearly as tall as Silverbolt), to see him stepped into the room . . .

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"And the recruiting mission is a success?" Optimus asked. On Teletran's screen was Prowl, the signal from the Vega Quadrant being somewhat testy.

"_Affirmative, Prime,"_ Prowl nodded. _"Very successful. Those who have signed up should be arriving to Earth and Cybertron within the next week or so. In the meantime, we'll continue to the other quadrants you've specified."_

"Good," he nodded. "No one's going to be disillusioned as to what's going to happen once they get their designated training posts?"

"_Negative, Prime. Half of those recruited are former Autobots. The rest are thrill-seekers."_

"Hrmm . . . Very well then. We'll see the three of you when you get back. Prime out."

The screen went blank, and the Autobot leader leaned back in his chair. The war to gather as many troops as possible had just begun. Little did he know the type of some of the recruits that had just signed up . . .


End file.
